


Maybe, Just Maybe

by LovlieLittleLies



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Eating Disorder, F/M, Harry's really sad, M/M, Self Harm, Zerrie engagement, kind of rape but not really?, this is upsetting what have I done
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-26
Updated: 2014-03-26
Packaged: 2018-01-17 01:27:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1368883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LovlieLittleLies/pseuds/LovlieLittleLies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry couldn’t think. Well, he couldn’t think by himself. But that voice was there, the one that hated him so, so much. See? You’re stupid, and you’re not hot enough, and Louis doesn’t want you. You’re so pathetic. You’re just dragging him down. Let him go. Maybe he can be happy with someone better than you.<br/>And Harry hated that voice, too. He hated it and he wanted it to go away. But it was right, he knew it was. So he put on a brave face and told Louis that ‘you know, maybe we should just break up’. And he didn’t really react when Louis cried, because he was too numb and he didn’t think he could say anything to fix it even if he knew what words were. </p><p>Or the one where Lou's tired of splitting time with Harry and Eleanor, but Harry just misses his love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maybe, Just Maybe

**Author's Note:**

> So the ending kind of sucks because I had a lot of school stuff to do before finals, but I'm going to fix it as soon as possible. 
> 
> Thanks to everyone who reads this, even if you don't like it (:

Harry hadn’t talked to Louis Tomlinson in a year. Well, okay, he’d say ‘hello’ and ‘goodbye’ every day. Because, honestly, he wasn’t heartless. And sometimes he said a few words in an interview or concert. And there were the times that they were all in a very small space and one of them would accidentally touch the other and apologize and the other would shrug and give a very brief acceptance of that apology.   

But in reality, he hadn’t had a conversation with Louis in a very long time. Sometimes that time seemed a lot longer than it actually was and he felt like he was being locked in a glass box with no air, and the box was getting smaller and smaller and there was no way to get out. He thought maybe that had something to do with missing Louis. Just maybe. And just maybe there were days that he’d touch Louis on purpose, just let their hands brush as they both reached for a water bottle or make his body lean towards Louis in a crowded hall so they’d press against each other for a few seconds. And, yeah, maybe that was wrong. But he missed Louis, missed his bright eyes, missed the little laugh he’d force out of politeness when someone made a bad joke, missed the way Louis would smile at him and hug him and kiss him and love him. He missed it. 

But no, he was mad at Louis. At least, that’s how this whole thing started. He had been so mad and upset and hurt, because, how could Louis suggest what he had? How could he ever go along with that ridiculous plan? And looking back on it now, he knows that maybe it wasn’t  really Louis he was mad at. It wasn’t Louis or his girlfriend, or any of the boys with their suggestions, or anyone else, really. It was the whole situation. 

Because it had been perfect in the beginning. Everyone had been so happy, and they’d been completely captivated by each other. Their families had been very supportive, and the boys had accepted their relationship with no questions. There were times when they’d be on a break for a few weeks and go to each other’s hometowns because they were so inseparable, and they hated the idea of being apart. Harry loved those times, even when they were being teased by their sisters. He loved the way the boys made gagging noises when they walked in holding hands. He even loved the way Gemma would roll her eyes and tell them to ‘stop ripping each other’s faces off with their lips’ because he knew she was proud of him and loved Louis almost as much as he did. 

But then they were told to stop touching each other so much in public.  And, okay, Harry wouldn’t exactly call himself clingy, but he was a very lovey person. He liked having his arm wrapped around Louis, and he liked being able to look up and just grin at him. And then suddenly he couldn’t, and he likes to think that’s exactly where things went wrong for them. 

Because there were nights that they’d come home from a long day of interviews and fans and rushing around and no Louis and Harry would spend a few minutes wrapped up in Louis’s arms before they’d stumble down the hall to their room, tossing articles of clothing on the floor. And sometimes Louis would decide they weren’t doing anything that day, and they’d just lay there. No sex, no human contact, just them. Just the two of them tangled in each other’s limbs, laughing and kissing and being happy. And maybe that was fine, they were fine. They were still perfect, it was just a little bit harder. 

And then came Eleanor. Harry didn’t hate her, actually. She was a perfectly nice girl, and he knew she was trying to help them most of the time. But having an attractive female hanging all over his boyfriend all the time tended to make him a bit bitter. And then there were all the dates and outings and pictures, and sometimes it was just too much. And so he’d lay there crying until Louis came home, and then he’d jump up and put on a smile and do anything he could to prove that he was still the best one for Louis. 

That went on for a few months, Louis being exhausted and insisting that ‘I’m just so tired, baby, we’ll do something tomorrow, I promise’ before taking a shower and sleeping until morning. Harry didn’t mind, but he missed Louis, and he wished he wasn’t so lonely all the time. So he’d put the leftovers in the fridge and clean the place up a bit and take his own shower and curl into Louis’s side and go to sleep. 

And when they had the day off, Louis would sleep with Harry wrapped around him and wake up to the smell of breakfast and smile and come out to kiss Harry. Those were still Harry’s favorite days, the ones where he got to spend the day with Louis, all alone. And Louis was all too willing to apologize for being so busy and get down on his knees to prove it. 

But then the fans started hating on Eleanor more, and it was decided that Louis was supposed to spend even more time with her (always publicly, of course), and he had to talk about her in every interview. And, yeah, Harry kind of snapped. 

He wanted to prove that he was the one Louis should be with. As many times as Louis insisted that it was him, only him, it didn’t feel like that. So he wouldn’t eat if Louis wasn’t home, his own mind telling him that he didn’t need the extra calories, didn’t need any more fat, had to look perfect for Louis. 

And he stopped sleeping somewhere along the way. Because if Louis was out, he didn’t want to sleep alone. And after Louis would go to sleep, he’d curl into Louis’s warm chest and just lay there and grin at him, because that was the only time he really got alone with his boyfriend anymore. And as long as he got up early to make Louis breakfast (that was eaten in a few minutes before they rushed to get ready) Louis didn’t notice. 

And so Harry’s life became a rush of fans, interviews, concerts, photoshoots, rehearsals, recordings. But under that, under the perfectly happy, carefree boy, he was scared. And there was nobody to fix that now, because the only person who could was busy with his girlfriend. And all Harry knew anymore was don’t eat, don’t get fat, you’ve got to look pretty for Louis, you’ve got to be smarter and hotter and better, always better. 

He was still okay. He was okay, and him and Louis were okay. And he wished they were better than okay, but he accepted okay because it was still safe and Louis was still his (kind of) and he was still alive, so what was the problem? 

It was only a few months later that Louis suggested it. They were just laying there, Harry’s whole body tangled around Louis, when he spoke. His voice was soft and quiet, but it made Harry’s whole body react, just like every time Louis spoke. He had been rubbing Harry’s side and looking up at the ceiling. 

“Harry?” He asked, his arm tightening around his waist. “Would you be okay if we, like, took a break and I moved in with Eleanor?” 

Harry’s heart stopped. Well, everything stopped. His grin fell, and he immediately clung to Louis. He could barely process the words, much less react to them. It took him a long time to figure out what to say. 

“You… I… You mean we wouldn’t be together anymore? A-and you wouldn’t live here anymore?” He could hear how pathetic he sounded. Stop it, stop it, you’re so stupid, he’ll leave you for sure if you can’t be strong. 

But Louis was there, and Louis was rubbing his side again, and Louis was reassuring him. “Well, yeah, I guess. But only for a little while. It’s just, it would make it so much easier. And you know half the rumors are because we still live together, so it’d make the fans believe in El, and then maybe we could have the weekends together.” 

Harry couldn’t think. Well, he couldn’t think by himself. But that voice was there, the one that hated him so, so much. See? You’re stupid, and you’re not hot enough, and Louis doesn’t want you. You’re so pathetic. You’re just dragging him down. Let him go. Maybe he can be happy with someone better than you.  
And Harry hated that voice, too. He hated it and he wanted it to go away. But it was right, he knew it was. So he put on a brave face and told Louis that ‘you know, maybe we should just break up’. And he didn’t really react when Louis cried, because he was too numb and he didn’t think he could say anything to fix it even if he knew what words were. 

Louis moved out the next week. Harry didn’t do anything. He didn’t know what to do, or how. But there were still so many things that screamed Louis, and Harry knew that Louis left one of his jumpers there in the back of the closet. He thinks Louis left it on purpose, because it was Harry’s favorite. 

And Harry likes to think that was when he started hating himself. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~* 

“Harry.” The voice catches him as he’s walking down the hall. All he wants is to get out, to go home and lay down. It’s been a long day filled with Louis and Eleanor kissing and the other four boys walking somewhere near them between a million different outfit changes and signings and interviews. He just wants to be away from here, away from them all. Especially Louis. He hates Louis. 

But when he turns around, it’s Niall standing behind him, and there’s a timid smile on his face. Harry’s always loved how nice Niall’s smile was. He takes a few steps toward Harry, almost like he was scared Harry is going to run away. “Hey, the guys are all coming over to Liam’s to hang out. Will you come? Please?” 

And now Harry knows why Niall seemed so reluctant to ask the question. Really, it was only Louis he was mad at. But he hadn’t made a point to hang out with any of them, even though they asked him all the time. He bites his lip, contemplating. “I… Niall, I don’t know.” 

Niall sighs quietly, looking down at his feet, and Harry thinks he looks a little heartbroken. “Yeah, I thought you’d say that. It’s just, well, we miss you, Haz.” He looks up at Harry with the same little smile, but his eyes are concerned. “We all miss you.” 

And, oh. Oh. Harry gets it. This is another one of their plots to get him and Louis back together. But no, no, no way, he won’t do it. He hates Louis. He doesn’t want to be anywhere near him, especially not when he’s been forced to sit in a room with him all day. 

And he opens his mouth to tell Niall that, to tell him how crazy he is, but then Niall gives this little shrug and his mouth turns up at the corners, and he looks like he thinks Harry is going to agree. And maybe that’s the happiest look anyone’s given Harry in a few weeks. So when he opens his mouth again, all that comes out is a little “okay”. And then Niall’s jumping up and down like a little kid and grabbing his hand and tugging him down the hall and out the opposite door. 

The car ride is awkward, to say the least. They’re all acting like Harry’s going to break, doing anything they can to make him comfortable. And the little smiles they’re giving him, the ones that are so full of hope and pride, they really are going to make him cry. 

But then there’s Louis sitting in the corner and Harry thinks that maybe he will cry. He’s still so conscious of Louis that he doesn’t need eyes to know that Louis is staring at him. He’s staring because you look awful, you know. He’s wondering why he ever loved someone so ugly. 

Harry kind of curls into himself after that. Niall, Liam, and Zayn are all making conversation, but he doesn’t feel the need to join in. The way they’re all grinning tells him that he’s done enough just by agreeing to hang out with them. 

When they get back to Liam’s, Harry thanks whatever god must be watching them, because there’s no fans around. It’s not that he doesn’t lobe their fans, because, honestly, the fans are always his favorite people. He just doesn’t feel like he could take that right now. 

Somehow he ends up on the sofa with Liam next to him. There’s a movie on, but none of them are really paying attention. They’re all squished together, mostly because that’s how they like to be, and Harry thanks that god again for putting Louis on the other side of the room. For anyone else, it would be easy to pretend Louis wasn’t there. But not for Harry, who could feel Louis in a ten-story building. 

Before he knows what’s happening, the movie is muted and he has three sets of eyes on him. He didn’t hear whatever question one of them obviously asked, so he just smiles a little and asks, “Hmm?” 

Liam looks concerned, and that’s the first tip he gets that something is wrong. Before he can search his mind to see what they were talking about, Liam tells him. “I asked when the last time you’ve eaten was.” 

Harry’s heart stops, and he looks down at his hands. This is it, this is when they all tell you how fat you are. “I, uh, I ate this morning. At home.” And, yeah, that’s a lie. But they’d be upset if he told them he hadn’t eaten lately, he knows they would. 

All three of them glance at each other, but the next voice Harry hears next is enough to shock him for a few seconds. It knocks his breath away, just as it has every time he’s heard it before. It’s Louis’s voice, his really concerned voice. The one he usually saves for special occasions. It’s the same one he uses when he talks to his mum and sisters about something serious, the same one that he’s used to comfort each one of them before. And he’s saying things Harry never thought he’d never say again. 

“Harry, please. Don’t lie to us.” He’s giving Harry this look as he says it that leaves no room for augments. “We know you haven’t been eating, it’s obvious. How much do you even weigh?” 

Harry doesn’t know what to say, because, wow. Okay. Yeah. This is really happening. He just shrugs and looks down at the ground, carefully avoiding all their gazes. Too much, way too much. 

Liam puts his arm around Harry and Harry kind of sinks into his side, because what else can he do? “Harry,” Liam says, a little wrinkle in his forehead that clearly states how disapproving he is. “You’ve got to let us help you. Please. We miss you, and you’re clearly not happy. We care about you.” 

Harry shakes his head, trying to make himself as small as possible. “No, I’m fine. I really am, it’s okay, I’m fine. You guys don’t need to worry about me.” He almost laughs, because that’s funny. He thinks they shouldn’t care, but he knows they will. Even Louis still cares about him, which hurts so much that his little giggle turns into a sob. 

Before anyone else can say anything, Niall jumps in. Harry is definitely thanking that god again, but this time it’s for Niall. Niall grabs his hand and pulls him up, away from the rest of the boys. And he’s smiling at Harry, and that makes Harry much more comfortable. “Harry, will you do something for me?” He asks, talking slowly, like Harry might not understand. 

Red flags go up, because this can’t be good. But harry doesn’t pull away, he just lets Niall lead him into the kitchen and hand him a piece of pizza that seems to have appeared from thin air. And Niall just smiles again, gentler this time. “Can you eat this  for me, love?” 

Harry looks down at the pizza and his stomach twists. He’s hungry, he’s sure he is, but no. No way, he can’t eat that, do you know how many calories are in that pizza? But he knows they’ll leave him alone if he eats it. He knows they’ll accept that he’s eating. 

So, eyes locked intently on Niall, he eats the pizza, one bite at a time. And with each bite, he takes the voice screaming in his mind, because no, no way, you’re already too fat, stop eating.   

*~*~*~*~*~*~* 

Harry stays away from the boys after that. He’s afraid of what they’ll say. When they’re all eating, he’ll purposely take a chip from Niall’s hand, or sneak a few bites off of Zayn’s plate. They don’t seem to mind, and it reassures them, he thinks. They always smile at him after that. 

Where ever they are, he’s never alone anymore. Someone’s always there, waiting outside the bathroom door or walking behind him in the hall. And, wow, that’s annoying. He doesn’t really know what they think he’ll do if he’s alone, but it must be bad. They’re making it really difficult to avoid them. 

Whoever is with him, it’s never Louis. That hurts, Harry thinks, more than anything. Because even though he hates Louis, and even though he wishes they would just leave him alone, he’s still not Louis’s top priority. And that just kind of stings. 

But then Harry has to be around them. Because Zayn and Perrie just got engaged, and they’re having a party tonight, and Harry had to go. He’s really happy for them, of course, he just wishes he could be happy from a distance. 

But he’s going to go, and he’s going to smile and be happy. Perrie has actually become his favorite person ever, because she doesn’t seem to be so worried about him. If she’s around when they’re supposed to be eating, she just gives him this hard look that dares him not to eat, and he has to. And she doesn’t follow him around like a mother. She’ll watch him, sure, but not like the others. 

Harry shows up at their house last. He can see the lights on, and he hears laughter through the door as he knocks. But then it’s quiet for a second, and he hears someone say that ‘oh my god, I didn’t think he’d come’ and then there’s a loud shuffling, and then the door opens to a smiling Perrie. She pulls him in by his arm and gives him a huge hug. “There you are! We thought you’d never show up! Get in here!” 

And so he does as she says and comes inside, holding out the flowers he picked up on the way over. “Uh, thanks for having me. Congratulations, Per.” 

Perrie just grins and takes the flowers before leading him into the kitchen. All four of the boys are there, of course. Niall’s leaning back against the counter, beer in hand, easy grin on his face like always. And Zayn and Liam are sitting at the little table, both of them snacking on chips and drinking their own beers. And Louis, well, Louis takes his breath away. He’s standing along the opposite wall, arm wrapped tightly around Eleanor, his lips attached to her neck while she grins. 

Harry knew Louis would be here, it was a given. But he didn’t even have the decency to look up at Harry, or give a hello. He couldn’t even tear himself away from his precious girlfriend long enough to wave. And Harry knows that Louis has changed, but wow. His Louis would never have done something like that. 

It takes Harry a minute to realize that everyone’s silent and watching him. Even Eleanor’s eyes are on him, and she’s pushing at Louis’s shoulder to get him to stop. Niall wraps an arm around Harry’s waist and pulls the younger boy into his side, and Harry has to thank someone for Niall again. 

Harry just throws a smile onto his face and rests a hand on Niall’s waist. “God, guys, is it really that much of a shock that I showed? I mean, come on, we’re celebrating.” Without another word, he takes the beer from Niall and downs three quarters of it because, yeah, he needs to be drunk right now. 

Everyone slowly goes back to what they were doing, and Harry even joins in on the conversations. But no matter how drunk he gets, there’s always at least one pair of disapproving eyes on him. So he drinks until he’s all giggly, and he holds onto Niall because he can, and he has a good night with his friends. Because he needs it. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~* 

It’s much later in the night, when the sun is nearly rising, and he’s being woken from his sleep by a pounding at the door. He’s vaguely aware of the way he’s in bed, just his boxers on, and praises the heavens for Liam. He thinks it was Liam, at least, because he smells faintly like Liam’s favorite cologne.    
He’s very glad he doesn’t have a headache yet. He crawls out of bed and stumbles to the door, ready to scream at whatever little fucker is on the other side. But before he can open the door, he hears a sob, and that’s enough to make his blood run cold. Because he knows that sob. 

“Louis,” he whispers breathlessly as he opens the door. 

And, yeah, okay. This is really happening. Because there’s Louis, wearing his favorite pajama bottoms and a random sweatshirt, and his hair is all rumbled. Harry only has a second to take in the tears on Louis’s face before the boy is throwing himself at Harry. 

Harry stumbles back at the sudden weight added to his body. His arms go out to hold Louis instinctively, petting his hair softly. Even through his stunned state, he’s petting Louis’s hair and murmuring ‘shh, Lou, shh, it’s alright’. 

Louis lets out a broken sob, clinging to Harry. “H-H-arry,” he cries. “I-it’s all my fault, I d-did this, I’m so sorry.” Louis looks up at Harry and sniffles, trying to wipe his tears. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” 

And then Harry isn’t so stunned anymore. Maybe seeing Louis so broken is what makes him kick into action, and he kisses Louis’s forehead. “Hush, Lou, this isn’t  your fault. We aren’t your fault. It’s alright. Shh, baby, breathe.” 

And maybe he didn’t mean to say ‘baby’ but he doesn’t have time to think about it now. Because Louis is kissing him, hard and fast and burning hotter than the sun. Louis pushes him back until he doesn’t have to push him anymore, because Harry is pulling him to the bedroom, their bedroom. This path is all too familiar for them both, but neither one of them stops at the pang in their chest. 

Before he knows what’s happening, Harry is being flung back against the bed. Louis crawls up between his thighs and smiles- the little ass fucking smiles- and Harry’s heart is aching because this is all so fast and the room is spinning. Louis is on top of him, sitting over his hips, and he’s crying while he kisses Harry. 

His hands trail down Harry’s body until they’re on Harry’s ribs, and he pulls back. He’s a bit breathless, but he mostly just looks like he’s going to cry again. “Harry.” He traces each one of Harry’s ribs as he speaks, and for once, there’s no voice. “Harry, baby. Love. I can feel your ribs. I can feel all of your fucking ribs, Harry! Jesus, when was the last time you ate?” But he doesn’t wait for an answer. Instead, he’s kissing down Harry’s body. “You’re so special, Harry, so perfect. Let me show you. Let me show you how beautiful you are.” 

Just as he’s peeling Harry’s boxers down, Harry grabs his wrists to stop him. “Louis.” He croaks out, voice filled with emotions. “Lou, stop. Please stop. I can’t- I can’t do this. Please.” He’s not exactly sure where he’s getting this strength, but he knows he needs it. “This isn’t right. We can’t do this. Stop.” 

But that’s when he sees the glint in Louis’s eyes. It’s faint, but it’s there, lurking behind the beautiful blue that Harry fell in love with so long ago. And it comes out in those eyes as Louis grins, and now it’s not so sweet. Louis is drunk. Harry knows he is. “Baby.” Louis says, barely a whisper against his skin. “I just want to show you how much I love you. Please. Just lay down. I’ll make you feel good.” 

Before Harry can protest any more, Louis has all of their clothing off and he’s pinning Harry’s hands down. He’s not hurting Harry, exactly, but this isn’t very comfortable. He kisses along Harry’s jaw, whisper-soft lips on his skin. “I bet you haven’t moved anything, have you? The lube’s still exactly where I always kept it, hmm? Top drawer of the nightstand?” As if to prove his point, he reaches into the drawer and tosses the bottle onto the bed. 

Even as Louis is slowly pushing one slick finger into Harry, he’s not hurting him. Harry’s not exactly enjoying this, but he’s not in pain. He can’t bring himself to be scared. It’s still Louis, his treasured Louis, and Louis won’t hurt him. 

Harry’s not even being hurt as Louis pushes into him and lets out a little hiss of pleasure. It’s been nearly a year since they had sex, but  Harry knows exactly the way Louis’s body feels pressed against his. And Harry still remembers how gentle Louis is with him, taking a long time to prep him and make him comfortable. This is a bit more sloppy and a lot more confusing, but Louis is still showering Harry in that loving attention. 

And that’s why Harry cries as they come together. That’s why he starts sobbing as Louis pulls out and tenderly wraps himself around Harry. Harry cries in Louis’s chest, and Louis just holds him and murmurs soothing things. But, fuck. What the hell just happened? Harry can’t decide if he likes this or not. But he knows he loves falling asleep in Louis’s arms, so he does. 

When he wakes up, he’s all alone. There’s no traces of Louis anywhere, and he’s wondering if maybe he imagined the whole thing. And he’s also wondering in maybe he’s never been more broken. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~* 

It’s another month before anything happens. Another month of avoiding everyone completely and looking away and crying himself to sleep. And maybe he could take that, but he’s done with the confusion. But he’s so, so confused. 

A month after the night with Louis, Harry’s at his breaking point. There’s scars littering his arms, and he doesn’t remember putting most of them there. He remembers how it started. He remembers the day after, when Louis was so wrapped up in Eleanor, and he remembers watching them so angrily that he cut his hand without noticing. It was just a small cut. He’d been cutting an apple (because Niall was whiny and complaining that ‘Harry, I can’t eat a whole apple, it’ll hurt my teeth!’) and the knife had slipped when Louis pinned Eleanor to the wall. He’d cursed and ran off to rinse the blood away, but he’d realized something in that bathroom. It helped. Don’t ask him how, it just did. 

He knew that he really shouldn’t, but he did it again. And again, and again after that. He did it nearly every day. He relied on it, like a safety blanket. Only on one arm, because it was easier to monitor who was watching one spot than many spots. But that one arm was full, and he didn’t know what to do.  
He’s in a bathroom off the dressing room after rehearsal one day, just sitting and thinking about it. He couldn’t watch Louis and Eleanor, so he’d insisted on changing in here. But then he didn’t come out. 

He isn’t  sure how long he’s been sitting here. There’s blood from the spots where he’s scratched at the healing cuts, and he’s just watching it. Smiling at it. Almost like Louis had smiled at him that night, like it was perfect and his favorite possession in the world. 

But then the door opens, and hell. How could he have been so stupid not to lock it? He’d thought everyone was already gone, so it wouldn’t be a problem, that’s how. He jerks his arm away to put it behind him, but it’s too late. 

Louis is standing in the doorway, his mouth forming Harry’s name. But he’s too frozen to speak, his eyes wide and locked on Harry’s. He looks like a dear in headlights, really, which Harry finds a bit ridiculous, because that’s how he feels. 

“Louis?” Eleanor asks from her perch on the sofa. “You okay? Come on, hurry up, I want to go home.” 

That’s when Louis surprises Harry. He turns to her, his face a mask of anger and pain. “Go home, Eleanor. Go. Now. I’ll be there soon, whatever. Just- just leave. Right now. Get the hell out of here.” 

She huffs and rolls her eyes- Harry can tell without seeing- and then he hears heels click-clacking away. When the sound is gone, Louis drops to his knees beside Harry and starts sobbing. “Oh, Harry, oh baby. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” 

And this is different, because Harry’s not drunk and Louis isn’t drunk, and what the hell? “Lou, it’s okay.” Is what Harry says, calm as ever. 

But then Louis screams. “No it’s not, Harry, it is not! I’m completely stupid, and I’ve known you aren’t eating, but I didn’t know you were actually hurting yourself, and it’s all because of me, isn’t it? Isn’t it?!” 

And, god, Harry can’t lie to him. He just looks down at his wrist, wiping away a bit of the blood, and shrugs. “Not really. It’s mine. And, like, it’s okay. Feels good.” 

Louis manages to pull himself up from the floor, and then he’s wrapped around Harry, holding the boy close to himself. “Harry. I’m sorry for everything. Okay? I’m so sorry. I love you so much.” 

Harry can’t even be confused anymore. He sinks into Louis’s embrace, because, yeah, it’s nice. It feels safe, like home. “I love you too,” he says quietly. 

“You do?” Louis asks, his whole world stopping. Because, oh my god, he was not expecting that. “Oh, god. Oh Harry. I’m so sorry. Do you- I mean, will you…” He sighs, tears streaming down his cheeks as he looks deep into Harry’s pretty eyes, the ones he fell in love with so long ago. “I mean, I know I can’t ever take this back. I know I was stupid and terrible, but. Can we do this all again? Can I come home? Please, will you let me help you? Jesus, Haz, I miss you so much. Will you forgive me? Will you be mine again?” 

Harry’s not really sure what question he’s answering, but he still says, “Yeah, yeah, yes.” And then he’s kissing Louis, sweet and soft and burning brighter than the sun. 

He knows what this will be like. He's always known he'd never really be able to go back. But it's Louis. His Louis, holding him tight and apologizing. He's not sure he could say no even if he wanted to.

And Harry thinks that maybe, just maybe, he’s going to be okay now.     


End file.
